The Chosen (Black Dagger Brotherhood 15)

Wrath’s nostrils flared. And then he inclined his head once. “So be it. Midnight tomorrow. You will meet us downtown, Fifteenth and Market. There’s a vacant warehouse. You can’t miss it.”

“We will be there at twelve fifteen. I am seeing them at midnight and we shall need to come to you.”

Wrath walked forward and put his dagger hand out into thin air. “You and your males have my word. Provided they offer no threat to my boys, no one will get hurt.”

Xcor took hold of what he was offered and they shook.

“Until the morrow,” he said to the King in the Old Language.

“Until the morrow,” Wrath repeated.

As Wrath and Vishous took their leave, departing out the slider, Xcor could only hope that that promise which had been given was one the King could keep.

“They’re going to kill you,” Layla said in a dead voice. “You will not live through that meeting.”

Xcor looked over at her. He hated the fear in her pale face, the trembling in her body. In the quiet of the safe house, he wanted to lie to her. He wanted to know how she’d found out the truth. He wanted … to stay with her forever.

But destiny had already answered that last one.

Reaching out with his hand of peace, not of war, he touched her smooth cheek. Brushed her lower lip with his thumb. Stroked the vital vein that ran up the side of her throat.

“He cannot guarantee your safety.” With a desperate curse, she turned her face to his palm and kissed his war-hardened skin. “Not when it comes to Tohrment or Qhuinn. And well you know it.”

“How?” he breathed. “How did you know?”

“Does it matter?”

No, he supposed, it did not. “Why didn’t you say something?” she begged.

“Why didn’t you tell Wrath?”

“Because ultimately it matters not. Safety in times of conflict is an illusion that can only be peddled, never promised. He and I both know that. If one of them decides to solve a problem that does not exist independently, nobody will be able to stop that. Free will is a universal truth, just like gravity.”

“But it’s not fair. It’s not right.”

“And that is why I must protect myself and expect no one, not even the great Blind King, to do it for me.”

“Xcor, you need to—”

“Shh,” he said as he put his forefinger to her lips. “No more talk of war. There are far better things we must do with our time.”

As he brought her against him, he rolled his hips, proving his arousal even though she could no doubt scent it.

“Let me be in you,” he said as he kissed her. “I need you the now.”

She did not immediately respond and he gave her the time she required to sort out the difference between what was hope and what was reality, what was principle and what was fact. She was a smart female, not versed in the ways of fighting, but not naive, either.

And at the end of the night, she knew that whether he lived or died the following evening, their future was not together. If he survived, he was going back to the Old Country and she was staying in Caldwell. If he died? Well, that was him over and done with, likely in Dhunhd.

“I love you,” she whispered when she finally tilted her head back for more of his kiss. “Always.”

Xcor stroked her blond hair back. “You are more than I deserve and everything I have ever wanted.”

With that, he sealed their mouths and tried to forget that time was running out for them. It was hard not to remember, however.

And he knew it was the same for her.

FIFTY-SIX

As Vishous and Wrath arrived back at the Brotherhood’s courtyard, V was shaking his head. Oh, this was going to be a fun time. Yup, right up there with getting gutted while you were still alive.

The King wheeled around and was so furious there was proverbial smoke coming out of those ears of his. “You tell that motherfucker to get up to my study.”

“You want everybody or just—”

“Tohrment. You fucking get that asshole right now and bring him to me! What the fuck was he thinking?”

Wrath pivoted away and headed for the stone steps to the mansion’s entrance, clearly so pissed off he’d forgotten he couldn’t see. And yeah, for a second, V was tempted to let Mr. Personality learn the hard way he was still blind.

He caved, though, jumping forward and catching the King’s arm. “Shut the fuck up,” he muttered before Wrath could jerk them apart. “You want a head injury on top of all this shit?”

It was like cozying up to dry ice, the King’s mood so bad he turned the air around him even more arctic. But at least V was able to get the guy in through the vestibule and out the other side to the foyer. He knew better to hold on after that, though.

Dropping his grip on that thick biceps, he got out his backup phone and hit Tohr’s number as Wrath thundered across the mosaic depiction of the apple tree in full bloom, relying on memory and stride count to find the lowest step—

A ringing sounded out. And not only in V’s ear.

It was emanating from high above the foyer.

Vishous lowered his cell phone as Wrath took the stairs two at a time.

“Perfect timing,” V muttered as he rushed to catch up.

Sure enough, Tohrment was sitting in one of the chairs right outside Wrath’s study, as if he had seen the future and knew he was going to get his ass chewed for shooting Xcor. And clearly, the guy wasn’t feeling too good about things, although whether that was because he’d disobeyed a direct order on a whim or was about to catch shit, it was hard to know. In any event, the brother’s head was down, his shoulders caved, his body uncharacteristically self-contained.

“No reason to answer your call, my brother,” the guy said as he turned around his cell phone. “I’m right here.”

Wrath bared his fangs and hissed. “Get in there. We are not doing this shit in public.”

As Tohr rose to his feet and complied with the order, V didn’t ask permission to join the pair of them. He walked right in behind Wrath, shut the doors, and leaned back, holding the handles together.

Wrath didn’t waste a damn second. “You’re out.”

Tohr shook his head. “What?”

“You’re out of the Brotherhood. Out. I’m removing you, effective immediately.”

Okaaaaaaaaaaaaaay. That was not the way this was supposed to go, V thought.

No, see, Tohr was the glue that held the Brotherhood together. Save for that time right after Wellsie had been killed, he was always the one who was steady and sure, the quieting force that had kept people’s heads together.

“And you shut the fuck up.”

It took V a minute to realize that Wrath was addressing him. No time to respond, though, because Tohr grabbed the mic.

“He’s right, V. I disobeyed a direct order. I shot at Xcor last night when I saw him out in the city. There have to be consequences.”

Wrath seemed a little taken aback at the easy acquiescence.

Tohr just shrugged. “It was the wrong thing to do. It was in direct conflict with your position and what you hoped to accomplish. Guess being a traitor runs in my family.”

“What?” V said sharply.

The brother waved a dismissive hand. “It doesn’t matter. Autumn and I will move out first thing tomorrow. Unless you want us to leave tonight.”

Wrath frowned. And then went over to his desk, circumventing the sofas and finding the throne.

As he lowered himself into his father’s seat, he seemed utterly exhausted, and sure enough, he popped up his wraparounds and rubbed his eyes.

“Why?” he said. “What the fuck is such a big deal about Xcor? Why can’t you let this shit go?”

“I will now. That’s all that matters. I have … no interest in pursuing murder.”

“What’s changed?”

Tohr just shook his head. “Nothing of consequence. In the larger scheme of things.”

Something rang in the back of V’s head, but he couldn’t put his finger on it, and man, that was really fucking irritating. But he was tired, and not just because his body was exhausted from lack of sleep.

Wrath sat forward. “Listen to me. The war is grinding down, we’re so close to ending this. I don’t want the distraction for you people. I don’t want you bunch of hardheaded assholes chasing after five douchebags just because they once had a political agenda that included my head on a plate. Xcor knows where we live. He hasn’t done shit about it. He’s been staying with Layla for the last forty-eight hours and I feel their connection. He is also fully committed to this brokered peace and getting the fuck out of Caldwell. There is no more conflict and not just because I say so.” ’s nostrils flared. And then he inclined his head once. “So be it. Midnight tomorrow. You will meet us downtown, Fifteenth and Market. There’s a vacant warehouse. You can’t miss it.”

“We will be there at twelve fifteen. I am seeing them at midnight and we shall need to come to you.”

Wrath walked forward and put his dagger hand out into thin air. “You and your males have my word. Provided they offer no threat to my boys, no one will get hurt.”

Xcor took hold of what he was offered and they shook.

“Until the morrow,” he said to the King in the Old Language.

“Until the morrow,” Wrath repeated.

As Wrath and Vishous took their leave, departing out the slider, Xcor could only hope that that promise which had been given was one the King could keep.

“They’re going to kill you,” Layla said in a dead voice. “You will not live through that meeting.”

Xcor looked over at her. He hated the fear in her pale face, the trembling in her body. In the quiet of the safe house, he wanted to lie to her. He wanted to know how she’d found out the truth. He wanted … to stay with her forever.

But destiny had already answered that last one.

Reaching out with his hand of peace, not of war, he touched her smooth cheek. Brushed her lower lip with his thumb. Stroked the vital vein that ran up the side of her throat.

“He cannot guarantee your safety.” With a desperate curse, she turned her face to his palm and kissed his war-hardened skin. “Not when it comes to Tohrment or Qhuinn. And well you know it.”

“How?” he breathed. “How did you know?”

“Does it matter?”

No, he supposed, it did not. “Why didn’t you say something?” she begged.

“Why didn’t you tell Wrath?”

“Because ultimately it matters not. Safety in times of conflict is an illusion that can only be peddled, never promised. He and I both know that. If one of them decides to solve a problem that does not exist independently, nobody will be able to stop that. Free will is a universal truth, just like gravity.”

“But it’s not fair. It’s not right.”

“And that is why I must protect myself and expect no one, not even the great Blind King, to do it for me.”

“Xcor, you need to—”

“Shh,” he said as he put his forefinger to her lips. “No more talk of war. There are far better things we must do with our time.”

As he brought her against him, he rolled his hips, proving his arousal even though she could no doubt scent it.

“Let me be in you,” he said as he kissed her. “I need you the now.”

She did not immediately respond and he gave her the time she required to sort out the difference between what was hope and what was reality, what was principle and what was fact. She was a smart female, not versed in the ways of fighting, but not naive, either.

And at the end of the night, she knew that whether he lived or died the following evening, their future was not together. If he survived, he was going back to the Old Country and she was staying in Caldwell. If he died? Well, that was him over and done with, likely in Dhunhd.

“I love you,” she whispered when she finally tilted her head back for more of his kiss. “Always.”

Xcor stroked her blond hair back. “You are more than I deserve and everything I have ever wanted.”

With that, he sealed their mouths and tried to forget that time was running out for them. It was hard not to remember, however.

And he knew it was the same for her.

FIFTY-SIX

As Vishous and Wrath arrived back at the Brotherhood’s courtyard, V was shaking his head. Oh, this was going to be a fun time. Yup, right up there with getting gutted while you were still alive.

The King wheeled around and was so furious there was proverbial smoke coming out of those ears of his. “You tell that motherfucker to get up to my study.”

“You want everybody or just—”

“Tohrment. You fucking get that asshole right now and bring him to me! What the fuck was he thinking?”

Wrath pivoted away and headed for the stone steps to the mansion’s entrance, clearly so pissed off he’d forgotten he couldn’t see. And yeah, for a second, V was tempted to let Mr. Personality learn the hard way he was still blind.

He caved, though, jumping forward and catching the King’s arm. “Shut the fuck up,” he muttered before Wrath could jerk them apart. “You want a head injury on top of all this shit?”

It was like cozying up to dry ice, the King’s mood so bad he turned the air around him even more arctic. But at least V was able to get the guy in through the vestibule and out the other side to the foyer. He knew better to hold on after that, though.

Dropping his grip on that thick biceps, he got out his backup phone and hit Tohr’s number as Wrath thundered across the mosaic depiction of the apple tree in full bloom, relying on memory and stride count to find the lowest step—

A ringing sounded out. And not only in V’s ear.

It was emanating from high above the foyer.

Vishous lowered his cell phone as Wrath took the stairs two at a time.

“Perfect timing,” V muttered as he rushed to catch up.

Sure enough, Tohrment was sitting in one of the chairs right outside Wrath’s study, as if he had seen the future and knew he was going to get his ass chewed for shooting Xcor. And clearly, the guy wasn’t feeling too good about things, although whether that was because he’d disobeyed a direct order on a whim or was about to catch shit, it was hard to know. In any event, the brother’s head was down, his shoulders caved, his body uncharacteristically self-contained.

“No reason to answer your call, my brother,” the guy said as he turned around his cell phone. “I’m right here.”

Wrath bared his fangs and hissed. “Get in there. We are not doing this shit in public.”

As Tohr rose to his feet and complied with the order, V didn’t ask permission to join the pair of them. He walked right in behind Wrath, shut the doors, and leaned back, holding the handles together.

Wrath didn’t waste a damn second. “You’re out.”

Tohr shook his head. “What?”

“You’re out of the Brotherhood. Out. I’m removing you, effective immediately.”

Okaaaaaaaaaaaaaay. That was not the way this was supposed to go, V thought.

No, see, Tohr was the glue that held the Brotherhood together. Save for that time right after Wellsie had been killed, he was always the one who was steady and sure, the quieting force that had kept people’s heads together.

“And you shut the fuck up.”

It took V a minute to realize that Wrath was addressing him. No time to respond, though, because Tohr grabbed the mic.

“He’s right, V. I disobeyed a direct order. I shot at Xcor last night when I saw him out in the city. There have to be consequences.”

Wrath seemed a little taken aback at the easy acquiescence.

Tohr just shrugged. “It was the wrong thing to do. It was in direct conflict with your position and what you hoped to accomplish. Guess being a traitor runs in my family.”

“What?” V said sharply.

The brother waved a dismissive hand. “It doesn’t matter. Autumn and I will move out first thing tomorrow. Unless you want us to leave tonight.”

Wrath frowned. And then went over to his desk, circumventing the sofas and finding the throne.

As he lowered himself into his father’s seat, he seemed utterly exhausted, and sure enough, he popped up his wraparounds and rubbed his eyes.

“Why?” he said. “What the fuck is such a big deal about Xcor? Why can’t you let this shit go?”

“I will now. That’s all that matters. I have … no interest in pursuing murder.”

“What’s changed?”

Tohr just shook his head. “Nothing of consequence. In the larger scheme of things.”

Something rang in the back of V’s head, but he couldn’t put his finger on it, and man, that was really fucking irritating. But he was tired, and not just because his body was exhausted from lack of sleep.

Wrath sat forward. “Listen to me. The war is grinding down, we’re so close to ending this. I don’t want the distraction for you people. I don’t want you bunch of hardheaded assholes chasing after five douchebags just because they once had a political agenda that included my head on a plate. Xcor knows where we live. He hasn’t done shit about it. He’s been staying with Layla for the last forty-eight hours and I feel their connection. He is also fully committed to this brokered peace and getting the fuck out of Caldwell. There is no more conflict and not just because I say so.”